The Terror
By all accounts, it should have been a perfect day. And it nearly was. When he woke up, the sun was shining and birds were chirping happily outside his window. He dressed quickly and casually, knowing that the day ahead wouldn't be hectic or public. He and his boyfriend had plans to stay in, to be lazy for a day. Said boyfriend arrived around ten, and they ate a hearty brunch of French toast and fresh fruit, their ankles interlocked under the table.
Then he made the brilliant suggestion to go swimming. The two changed into swim trunks (a task that took a good ten minutes longer than was strictly necessary due to some physical distractions) and headed into the backyard. They carefully applied sunscreen to each other's skin (again spending more time than one usually would) before jumping into the deep end hand-in-hand.
They swam for a while, sometimes floating lazily beside each other, sometimes frantically chasing one another around the edges of the pool. At one point his boyfriend snuck up on him and dunked him under the water, laughing so hysterically when he came back up spluttering that water shot out of his nose.
After about forty-five minutes, he announced that he would be getting drinks. He climbed out of the pool and, noticing his boyfriend's lustful stare after him, wiggled his butt a bit as a tease. He laughed at the resulting groan of frustration and made his way into the house after drying himself off a bit with his towel. He deliberated for a good three minutes about which sodas to choose, finally deciding on two Diet Cokes. He was just about to head back out when he realized he was hungry again. He grabbed a bowl of sliced watermelon and a bag of Oreos, just for good measure. He carried his load back to the deck and set it down on a table. He moved to the railing that overlooked the pool. "I got food, are you hungry?"
He didn't a get a response, but he noticed that his boyfriend was underwater. He raised his voice. "I said, I got food, are you hungry?"
That's when he realized that his boyfriend wasn't swimming around. He wasn't moving at all.
"Oh my god, Kurt!" Blaine rushed down the deck stairs and leapt into the pool. He swam frantically to the bottom—why did they need a ten-foot-deep pool?—where Kurt was floating listlessly. Blaine tried to haul him up, but he wouldn't budge. Blaine looked down and spotted that Kurt's trunks were caught on the drain on the floor. He tried to tug them loose, but to no avail. Instead, he grabbed the waistband of the trunks and slid it downward, pulling Kurt out of them. Once Kurt was free, Blaine shot to the surface. He clambered out of the pool and laid Kurt on the patio, checking for breathing.
He found none.
Thankful for the CPR and first aid training his father made him undergo, Blaine swept Kurt's mouth with two fingers to clear it of any debris, even though there wasn't any in there. Next, he sealed his mouth carefully over Kurt's and blew into it as hard as he could. He saw Kurt's chest rise with the force of it, and one Mississippi, two Mississippi later, he repeated the action.
His hand grappled for Kurt's, fingers seeking out his wrist. There was no pulse. Blaine immediately began compressions, trying to keep the beat of "Stayin' Alive" in his brain—a task that proved quite difficult when his brain was locked in searing terror.
A small part of his mind suggested that he call 911, but Blaine couldn't take the time to stop pumping at Kurt's chest and pick up the phone. He just keep working on getting Kurt breathing again, tears sliding down his face. After thirty compressions, he blew into Kurt's mouth two more times. Kurt still didn't respond. He resumed compressions, tears absolutely pouring from his eyes now. At around the tenth compression, he realized that he was whispering please please please under his breath. He cried even harder.
Then finally, finally, after the twenty-second compression, Kurt released a mighty, bone-shaking cough, and then twisted onto his side and vomited all over the patio. Sobbing in relief, Blaine pulled Kurt into his arms and tried to keep him calm as he began to hyperventilate. "Kurt, it's okay, I'm right here—"
"I don't—I don't under—what is happening—why can't I—"
"Just breathe, Kurt, you're okay."
Blaine reached for the nearest phone, which happened to be Kurt's. He dialed 911 and continued to hold Kurt.
"Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?"
"My boyfriend got caught at the bottom of my pool. When I pulled him out, he was not breathing and had no pulse. I began CPR as soon as possible and managed to resuscitate him. I'd very much appreciate it if an ambulance could come and make sure he's okay. Right now he's hyperventilating and in shock, and to be honest, I think I may be too."
The dispatcher typed on her keyboard for a moment before responding, "Okay, sir, an ambulance is on its way to your location. Can you tell me if your boyfriend has any other injuries?"
Blaine carefully looked Kurt over. His skin was terrifyingly pale and he was shaking from head to toe, but other than that he seemed unharmed. "I don't think so. He doesn't appear to have hit his head, and he's moving well enough to rule out spinal or neck injuries."
"Okay, well, the ambulance should be at your location in approximately eight minutes."
"Thank you. Can you tell them we're in the backyard? The gate is unlocked."
"Sure thing."
"Thanks for your help."
Blaine hung up and devoted his attention entirely to Kurt. "Honey, how are you doing?"
"I can't—I—what happened?"
"You got trapped at the bottom. When I came back outside, you—you weren't moving—" The tears began to fall again. "I thought I was going to lose you! Why didn't you just take those trunks off?"
Kurt burrowed himself into Blaine's chest. "I was so scared, Blaine. I was so scared, I'm so sorry—"
"No, I'm sorry, this wasn't your fault, here—" Blaine wrapped a towel around Kurt's exposed waist. "I had to take the trunks off of you to get you back up."
"Likely excuse," Kurt joked weakly.
Blaine smiled in return. "Do you want me to run inside and get you something to wear?"
"No!" Kurt clutched at Blaine's arms. "Don't go anywhere."
"Hey, no, okay, I'm not going anywhere." Blaine cradled Kurt in his lap as the faint sound of sirens approached. "The EMTs should be here soon."
"Why—why'd you call them? I'm fine."
Blaine kissed his head. "You stopped breathing, Kurt. Your heart stopped beating. The lack of oxygen can do a lot of internal damage, even temporarily. I'm not taking any chances."
"Don't make me go the hospital, I hate the hospital—"
"Kurt, just—please."
Despite Kurt's state of consciousness, terror still filled Blaine's eyes. Kurt nodded mutely just as the sirens screamed to a halt in front of the house and paramedics ran around back to the patio. The two men knelt beside the boys. "Hey guys, I'm Dean, this is Sam. How're you doing?"
Still shivering, Kurt said, "I'm o-okay. You didn't need to come all the way out here."
"You had no pulse, Kurt, forgive me for being concerned about your lack of a heartbeat."
The two paramedics gave each other a wry look. "Kurt, right?" Dean asked. Kurt nodded. "Alright, Kurt, we're gonna take your vitals." They set to work on the freezing boy, who remained in Blaine's lap. "You're pulse is still a little low, and we'd like to get your temp up. Sam, run to the truck and get some spare scrubs for him." Sam ran around the house. "I'm going to take you to the hospital." Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but Dean cut him off. "Look, you were out for how long?" He looked to Blaine.
"He regained consciousness about a minute and a half after I pulled him from the pool, but I have no idea how long he was out before that."
"Exactly. Lack of oxygen can result in brain damage." Blaine gave Kurt a pointed told you so look. "You shouldn't be there long. I just want a doctor to look you over, and from what I can tell, your boyfriend does too."
"I'm not playing around, Kurt. You could be seriously hurt in ways we can see."
"Okay, okay, let's—let's go."
Sam returned with the scrubs, and Blaine carefully helped Kurt into them. Then together he and Dean helped Kurt walk to the ambulance, where both boyfriends climbed inside. Kurt looked at Dean in panic. "He can come, right?"
"Well, technically, he's not supposed to, but since he did such a good job bringing you back from the brink of death, I guess we'll let him in."
Blaine grinned broadly and sat beside Kurt on the little bench. Sam climbed into the driver's seat while Dean joined them in the back and closed the door. As they began their journey back to the hospital, Blaine wrapped a blanket around Kurt's shoulders and held him close. "How are you feeling?"
"Exhausted," Kurt replied, leaning into Blaine's embrace.
"You've had quite a physically straining day," Dean explained. "Fatigue is expected. When we get to the hospital, they'll probably do some scans to make sure you haven't lost any brain function, and they'll warm up you and let you rest."
"C'mere." Blaine leaned against the back of the ambulance and pulled Kurt into his lap again. The two stretched out as best they could on the tiny bench.
Dean smiled at them. "How long have you two been dating?"
"A little over a year," Blaine replied, looking down at Kurt. "We'll have known each other for two in just a few months."
"I assume you're both in high school."
"Not anymore. Kurt graduated in June. I've got another year left."
"Gonna be rough, having to spend that time apart."
"Yeah," Blaine sighed, "but we'll get through it. We always do."
"Hey, does he have family you can call? Someone to meet us at the hospital, preferably with insurance information?"
Half-asleep, Kurt murmured, "M'dad. Insurance card's in wallet."
"We left your wallet back at the house, babe," Blaine whispered. "I'll call your dad…not on my cell phone, since I left that at the house too." He looked to Dean. "Can I borrow yours?"
"Sure thing."
Blaine took the device and dialed the Hummel Tires & Lube number, which he'd memorized a long time ago. Burt answered just as the ambulance pulled into the hospital. "Hummel Tires and Lube."
"Hey, Mr. Hummel, it's Blaine."
"Blaine, what's going on?"
"Look, I don't want you to panic, but we just got to the hospital, and—"
"Hospital?! Oh god, Jake, take over, I've gotta go—"
"Whoa, Burt! Slow down! Breathe." Blaine helped Kurt onto a stretcher that Dean and Sam then lowered out of the back of the truck. "He's okay. They're just going to check him over. We left his insurance card at my house, so—"
"I'm already on my way. What happened?"
Blaine couldn't follow the trio into the hospital because of the cell phone, so he wanted to finish the conversation as fast as he could. "He nearly drowned in the pool, but he's awake now. I called nine-one-one just to make sure there wasn't any damage when—"
"When what?"
"What his pulse stopped."
"Jesus Christ. You're in Westerville, right?"
"Yes, sir."
Burt didn't even bother to correct him like he usually did. "Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can. Just—just stay with him, okay? You know how hospitals freak him out."
"I know." Blaine paused. "Burt, I'm so sorry. I should've—I shouldn't've left him alone—"
"Blaine," Burt said gruffly, "you ain't got anything to apologize for. Accidents happen, I get that. I'm not mad. Just keep him calm."
"Yes, sir."
"I'll talk to you when I get there."
"See you soon, sir."
Blaine hung up, set Dean's phone inside the ambulance, and then rushed inside. He found out from the nurse at the front desk that Kurt was undergoing a quick MRI and would then be taken to Room 448, where Blaine headed immediately. He waited outside in an uncomfortable chair until a nurse wheeled his boyfriend around the corner and into view. Blaine jumped up at once. "Kurt!"
"Ah, you must be the boyfriend this one won't stop talking about," the nurse teased. "Let's get you into bed, Kurt, and then the two of you can be alone."
The nurse did just that, and Blaine quickly sank into the chair beside Kurt's bed. "How are you?"
"Tired," Kurt murmured, eyes slipping shut. He shuddered a bit, so Blaine tucked the blanket in around him as securely as possible. He then gripped Kurt's hand in both of his and kissed his knuckles. "You scared me today, Kurt."
"M'sorry."
"Just sleep, and promise that you'll never make me contemplate losing you again."
"Promise."
And then Kurt was asleep.
Once Kurt was gone, time became meaningless to Blaine. Five minutes later, thirty, sixty, Blaine lost it, his entire body heaving with the force of his sobs. Tears completed blurred his vision and he bent over, face buried in the blankets. He had no idea how long he stayed like that, but he jumped when a hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up to see Burt staring down at him, concerned. "What's going on?"
Blaine sat up and wiped his eyes. "Sorry, I—he's fine, I didn't mean to make you worry."
"I know he's fine, I talked to a doctor before coming in here. He has no brain damage. They're going to release him in a few hours, as soon as the insurance stuff is settled." He sat beside Blaine. "So why the tears?"
"It's—I'm being stupid, don't worry about it—"
"Blaine."
Blaine's eyes fell to the bed. "When I saw him, at the bottom of the pool, and then, when I pulled him out, and he wasn't breathing…I've had a lot of scary things happen—the Sadie Hawkins dance, moving to Dalton, moving to McKinley, getting a rock-salt slushie to the face—but I have never felt such a deep, harrowing, soul-crushing terror like I did when I felt his lifeless body in my arms. I thought…I didn't think I would survive it."
"I know the feeling," Burt replied, eyes on his son. "I remember getting the call that Elizabeth had died. I've never been more petrified in my life. Suddenly I was alone, with an eight-year-old kid to take care of, a funeral to plan, and no idea what I was doing. Every day of my life for a year and a half was filled with a fear I couldn't even describe. Still can't."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't compare—"
"It's okay, kid. When you love someone, you love someone. It's the hardest thing you'll ever do, but it can't be helped."
As promised, Kurt went home just a few hours later. Burt drove him while Blaine made a stop back at his house to pick up the things they'd left in their hurried exit and to pack an overnight bag for himself. Staying the night apart was absolutely out of the question, there was no doubt about that. Blaine made it to the Hudson-Hummel residence just ten minutes or so after Burt and Kurt, and found the latter already in bed, resisting Carole's attempts at taking care of him. Blaine sidled into the room and set his bag on Kurt's dresser. "Want me to take over, Carole?"
"Please, he's being incorrigible." She set a bowl of soup on Kurt's nightstand and left room. Blaine kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed beside his boyfriend. "Hey."
Kurt wouldn't look at him. "Hey."
"Wanna tell me what's going on?" Kurt didn't answer, so Blaine threaded his fingers through Kurt's and squeezed. "Hey, look at me." Kurt reluctantly swung his eyes down at Blaine. "You have absolutely nothing to feel embarrassed about. Talk to me."
"Of course I embarrassed!" Kurt huffed. "I'm eighteen years old, and I nearly drown in a pool? What am I, a child?"
"Kurt, you got stuck. You're not a bad swimmer—you can do some pretty amazing things underwater, if I remember correctly—" Kurt's skin flushed. "—but things happen. You're definitely not a child."
Kurt gave him a small smile. "You always know what to say."
Blaine tugged on his arm a little. "C'mon, nap with me."
"I've been napping all afternoon in the hospital."
"I don't care, nap with me." He snuggled into Kurt's side. Kurt rolled his eyes and dipped his head on top of Blaine's. Within a few minutes, both were sound asleep.
Two hours later, Kurt jolted upright, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. His hands grappled for Blaine, who awoke in concern. "Kurt, what—"
"Blaine I almost drowned."
Blaine sighed. "I—I know, sweetie, I know, and I'm so sorry—"
"Oh my god—" Kurt began to sob, hiccupping with the force of it, tears flowing steadily. "I don't—I don't—"
"Shh…" Blaine wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and leaned back against the headboard. "Did you have a nightmare?" Kurt nodded frantically. "I did too, it's okay, you're okay."
After a few minutes, Kurt calmed down a bit. He whispered, "What…what was your nightmare about?"
Blaine swallowed thickly. "You…you were at the bottom of the pool. I saw you from the deck, but when I tried to run to you, I was stuck, my feet sinking into the deck. Even though you were underwater, I could hear you calling for me, begging me to help you, but…I just couldn't. It was horrible."
"Sounds like my dream," Kurt says. "There wasn't much too it. It was dark and cold and I couldn't breathe. I tried to scream for you, but there was too much water. My body stopped working and my lungs stopped working and I couldn't—I couldn't—"
"Shh…" Blaine laid them back down in the bed. "It's going to be okay. We're going to get through this together. Just remember that I love you and that I will never, ever let anything happen to you."
"Sing to me?"
"Always."
Kurt closed his eyes and let Blaine's voice wash over him. They would be okay; they always would be. But for now, what they needed most was each other.
"All you need is love.
All you need is love.
All you need is love, love.
Love is all you need."
YES I NAMED THE EMT'S SAM AND DEAN SO SUE ME.
So this was a long one! It's been while since I've updated (I presume, I honestly don't remember), so I'm making up for it with the longest chapter ever in the AVKS/ASKS 'verse. You're welcome.
I've already got an idea for the next chapter, which is not nearly as angsty as this one, so keep an eye out for that one. And...yeah! That's all I got for now! Mwah!
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